Hit
by laynee
Summary: Dick is working undercover for BPD, on the streets and after a new drug called Gossamer. It's a battle, one that Dick might lose. Will he have call for reinforcements before it's too late? Sequel, sort of, to Second Chances. Continued in 'Desire'.
1. Assignment

I don't own Supernatural or anything that has to deal with it

I don't own Nightwing or any of the other amazing characters that the world of DC has created. I just use them, so don't sue me (I'm just a poor college student).

I'm new at writing Nightwing, but I hope it meets your expectations. Thanks for the reviews.

Dick Grayson got back to his apartment just as dawn was hitting the streets of Bludhaven. He wore a dark sweatshirt and jeans, smudged with dirt. He was exhausted. He dropped his backpack down by the door and went into the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and sat heavily down at the table. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

His cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. "Grayson."

"Dick, it's Roy. What are you doing tonight?"

He sighed. "It's seven in the morning, I just got of work."

"Let's go out."

"I work tonight." He stood and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Doesn't working nights interfere with your other job?"

Dick took a drink of the coffee. "Either way, it's getting the bad guys off the streets."

"So that's a no for tonight?"

He smiled. "Yeah, it's a no."

"Call me when you're not saving the streets." Roy hung up the phone.

Dick closed his phone and tossed it onto the kitchen table. He drained the coffee and left the cup on the counter. He walked towards his room and fell onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes. It crossed his mind that he should at least take off his t shirt if not shower, but he was asleep before he could do anything.

He woke mid afternoon and sat up. His peeled his shirt from him and tossed it to the floor. He stepped out of his jeans and walked into the bathroom for a shower. He washed the dirt and sweat from his skin and let the hot water relax the tension in his shoulder and back. He looked down and saw the pink scar in his abdomen from the shot that nearly killed him. He touched it and felt the slight pain that was still there as it wasn't completely healed yet.

_I have to stop getting in the way of bullets._ He smirked at the thought. After spending the better part of twenty minutes under the stream, he stepped out and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the fog off the mirror and looked at his reflection. He could see the faint scar from the bullet that hit his shoulder. He pulled his razor and shaving cream from the medicine cabinet and shaved.

After he pulled on jeans and a shirt, he went into the kitchen to make dinner. When he worked nights, dinner was usually the only meal he ate.

Dick shoved a few things in his backpack and left his apartment a little after eight. He hopped onto his motorcycle and slid the helmet over his head. It took a few kicks to start it and he remembered that he needed to check it out over the weekend. He weaved in and out of traffic with the agility and attention that he used when he leapt from the rooftops. He turned into the parking garage, pulled into his usual spot and walked down the stairs to the Bludhaven Police Department.

He stepped into Chief Addad's office. The chief was on the phone and looked up as Dick came in. He held up one finger and Dick leaned on the back of a chair.

Addad hung up the phone. "Ready to get back out there?"

"Yeah, same plan as before?"

"I have to know where these new drugs are coming from. It's bad enough that I wish it were heroin on the streets instead."

Dick nodded. "I know, I've seen what Gossamer does. We're getting close."

"Fill out your paperwork and hit the streets by ten."

"Sure thing." Dick flashed a confidant smile and left the office.

Dick knew that Kamkazie was somewhere behind the drugs, but he couldn't prove it until his own undercover drug work revealed the connection. Not that the information he got as Nightwing didn't help him in the search.

Alex O'Connor came up to Dick at his desk. As far as cops go, Alex was one of the good ones. He and Dick had worked a few cases together and had built up confidence, they knew they had each other's backs.

"Going back out tonight?" Alex sat on the corner of the desk.

"Just as soon as the paperwork's done."

"Addad has me with you tonight. Any tips?"

Dick smiled. "Keep up with me."

Alex rolled his eyes. "My grandma could keep up with you. See you out there."

Dick nodded and pulled another file over. Alex shot a rubber band at Dick from his desk. He looked up as Alex pretended to be engrossed in a file. Dick shook his head and turned back to his work.

Shortly after ten, Dick and Alex stepped out onto the streets. They took a bus down to near the docks. After weeks of undercover work, Gossamer had been traced back to the docks. It was where the main dealers got their supply that they dolled out to the lesser dealers. Dick had worked his way in so that he could go to the main dealers without running into too much trouble.

Alex pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up. "So, am I your lacky?"

"Business partner." Dick answered, alert for anything unusual. "Let me do the talking. These guys are more suspicious that a schizophrenic on speed."

Dick and Alex walked up to a man in a black trench coat leaned up against a building.

"Tony." Dick stated a few feet away.

"Didn't think you were coming, Seth." He lit a cigarette. "Who's your friend?"

"Dave. Known him since we were kids, trust him with my life."

"Well, I don't." Tony took a long drag.

Alex stopped as Dick took another step forward. "Come on, Tony. You want this deal or not. I got a lot of buyers lined up waiting for it. You want to keep them waiting?"

"Where's my money?"

Dick pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and tossed it to Tony. He thumbed through the twenties and fifties and looked up at Dick.

He took another drag on the cigarette. "Everything seems in order." He pulled up a black duffel bag from his side and tossed it to Dick.

He caught it and dropped to one knee. He zipped the bag open and checked the bags of drugs.

He closed the bag and stood. "I'm all set."

"I want my money by dawn."

"Thought the deal was 24 hours?" Dick stiffened slightly.

Tony stepped out of the shadow. He was muscular, like he had been on steroids or something, but his face was scarred on one side.

He met Dick's eyes. "Change of plans. If anything goes wrong and I don't get my money by first light, I'm gonna blame you and assume that Dave here had something to do with it and kill him. Got it?"

"Yeah. You'll have your cash by morning."

Tony threw his cigarette into a nearby puddle and it hissed as it went out. "Good." He stepped back into the shadows.

Dick and Alex turned and walked away from Tony. They walked a few blocks before they dared to speak.

"How much is in there?" Alex asked and nodded towards the bag.

"We'll get a good couple thousand easy." Dick pulled half the bags out and shoved them in his own backpack. "You know how this works?"

Alex nodded. "Half goes to the police for evidence, half is sold and the names are taken down of who we sell to. The rest of the money is from the chief."

Dick nodded and tossed his backpack to Alex. "Drop that off at the station, get the money and meet me on the corner of Seventh and Harrwood by midnight."

Alex pulled the backpack on and started down the dark street. Dick zipped the duffel bag and turned down a nearby ally.


	2. Darkness

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated. Sorry about the supernatural thing, it was a formatting error that I thought I corrected, but I was wrong.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language that may be appearing in the near future, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

Dick walked down to his usual stake out by the abandoned factory. He had his contacts set up and just had to wait for them to show up. The clouds hung low and mist started to fall. It made the streetlights look blurry and added a chill in the air that went straight through his sweatshirt. He pulled his hood up and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned back against the damp brick wall.

He heard the footsteps, heavy on the damp street, and stood. His muscles tightened as he waited.

"Seth?"

Dick relaxed a little, just one of his clients. "Who else would it be?"

Zeke stepped into the faint light. He was lean and muscular like a panther. He was one of Dick's best customers, more reliable than a Rolex. The guy never missed a night and always appeared in a time window of twenty minutes. He was tweaking a little, but he usually was. He never did Gossamer though, he preferred speed, a little heroin if he was celebrating. Zeke handed Dick a wad of money that he pulled from his jacket pocket.

Dick counted it quickly and met Zeke's eyes. "Two hundred short. Either you lost a few customers, or it went up your nose. Either way, it ain't my problem."

"You gotta give me the usual amount. Jack's gonna gut me if I don't give him his share."

Dick haned Zeke a few bags of the drug. "That's all you can get for your price. Either cough up the other two hundred or hope Jack will let you slide."

"Shit, please. I thought we were friends. You gotta spot me the to c's."

"Sorry." Dick leaned back up against the wall.

"But Jack-"

"Looks like you're gonna get what you deserve." Dick snapped. "If I spot you the Franklins, then I'm down two and what do you think my supplier will do then? I'm not taking the fall for you. Get out of here before I take back the deal all together."

Zeke slumped a little and sunk back into the shadows. Dick watched him leave and hated himself a little for doing so. The thing about undercover work, was he had to let things slide that he normally would have not. He had to play the part if it was to all work out in the end, hopefully the means would justify that and get rid of his guilt.

He loved working for Bludhaven police, but hated the helplessness of the procedure and red tape. Everything was simpler under the costume and mask, no rules and no paperwork. After his week of undercover was done, he'd have time to go back to the streets as Nightwing.

A dark figure caught his attention at the end of the ally. He glanced at his watch, still fifteen minutes too early for Alex to be back. He tensed automatically and prepared for the worst.

"You the guy selling Goss?"

He didn't recognize the voice. "Depends on who's asking."

The man stepped into the light. He was handsome and dark. "Nicky said you were the guy to see."

"Nick sent you?"

"Said to tell you that he's currently occupied and to come for him."

"Prove it." He wanted to stall until Alex had returned.

The man opened his coat and pulled out a piece of paper. He stepped forward and handed it to Dick. He took it and looked it over and recognized it as Nick's handwriting. He handed it back.

The man pulled out a few stacks of bills. "His usual deal is five c's right?"

"Yeah."

He held out the money. Dick reached for it. His wrist was grabbed by the man and he felt a prick of something at his wrist at the same instant. Dick pulled his hand back and saw the man drop an empty syringe to the street.

"What was that?"

"Can't go selling something you've never experienced. Don't worry, you won't O.D." He smiled. "Johnny says to tell you to enjoy it."

With a smile still on his face, the man stepped back and disappeared into the shadows. Dick leaned back against the wall, his eyes on the syringe on the ground. From what he knew of Gossamer, it was a dangerous mix similar to heroine, speed and a little coke thrown in there for good measure. As addictive as meth, it only took one hit to hook someone. He didn't know what exactly it was, but that didn't matter now.

He felt the ground shift under his feet and his head swam. Euphoria flooded his brain and wiped the worry from his conscience. He felt like he could fly or vomit and he wasn't sure which one would happen first. His blood pounded in his ears and colors flashed in front of his eyes. He tried to hold onto reality, but the drug was too strong. He felt invincible and strong, powerful and brilliant. He could do no wrong.

Alex came down the ally. He didn't see Dick standing where he said he would be. When Alex got closer, he saw his partner seated on the ground, leaned up against the wall. Dick's eyes were slightly unfocused.

"Dick?"

He looked up at Alex. "I'm not feeling the best. I think I should go home."

"What's wrong?"

He tried to organize his thoughts, he didn't want Alex to find out that he was high, didn't want him to find out he liked it. "Maybe the flu or something."

"What about Tony? He wants his money by dawn."

Dick took a slow breath and forced himself to focus. "You know who buys from me. Take my place, then go to Tony and tell him I was shot. Tell him I'm getting patched up and sent you. If you run into any trouble, call me."

"Sure." Alex knelt in front of Dick. "Want me to get you home?"

Dick pushed himself up against the wall and stood. "I think I can manage."

"Okay, but I'm calling in fifteen minutes. If you're not there, I'm going after you."

Dick nodded as Alex's form blurred and doubled in his eyes. He took a few staggered steps before he found his equilibrium and disappeared down the ally. Alex watched for a few minutes. He knelt down and counted the drugs and money to make sure that everything was accounted for, it was. He couldn't shake the feeling that Dick wasn't saying everything, that something was wrong. He pushed the thought from his head, focused on the job and took Dick's spot in the ally.


	3. Blurred

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated. Sorry about the supernatural thing, it was a formatting error that I thought I corrected, but I was wrong.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language that may be appearing in the near future, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

Dick staggered down the dark streets back to his apartment. The world spun around him with colors he had never seen before. It was almost as if he could feel them, hear them. He had gone down the rabbit hole and never wanted to come back to the real world.

_No wonder this stuff is so popular._ He mused, a smile on his face. _No, stay focused, Dick. Concentrate, don't lose yourself. You're better than this. God, I love this._

He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. The act did nothing more than mess with his already messed with equilibrium and send him sprawling to the sidewalk. He scratched his palms on the rough cement and laughed has he pushed himself back to his feet. Blood rose and dripped from a cut on his hand. He watched it with disconnected pleasure, he didn't feel the pain. He stumbled up the front steps of his building.

Tom opened the door for Dick as he wondered in. "Are you alright, Mr. Grayson?"

"Just great, Tom." Dick smiled. "You're doing a fantastic job."

Tom watched him as he stepped into the elevator and saluted with a bloodstained hand.

Dick found his way to his apartment and somehow managed to unlock the door. He leaned against the door as he pushed it open and fell into his living room. He laughed and pushed the door closed with his feet. He didn't bother getting up from the floor, but let himself spin away with everything else.

His phone rang and he fished it from his pocket as he tried to sober up enough to talk. "Hello?"

"It's Alex, you okay?"

"Yeah, just gonna get some sleep. I'll call in the morning."

"Okay. You sure?"

Dick took a breath and focused on being serious. "Yeah. Be careful out there, sorry I bailed."

"It's no problem. Talk to you later."

Dick closed the phone and let it drop to the floor near his hand. He looked up at the ceiling and watched the colors drift past its undulating surface. He had no idea how long he lay there on the floor, no way of telling how much time passed. It didn't matter, nothing did.

His phone rang again and he held it to his ear. "I'm fine, Alex."

"Dick? It's Roy."

"Sorry." He slurred. "Thought you were someone else."

"You okay? You sound drunk."

"Not drunk." Dick smiled and suddenly wanted to know what Gossamer and beer felt like. "Nope,"

"You on a shift?"

"Nope. Are we playing twenty questions?"

Roy knew something was up. "I'm gonna come over. You're at home?"

"Yep. See you then." He closed the phone before Roy could get another word in.

Dick was still on the floor when Roy knocked on the door. Roy waited a few minutes before he pushed open the door. He expected a few scenarios, but that wasn't one of them.

Dick smiled up at him. "Hey, Roy."

From Roy's own experience and from what he saw on the streets, he knew high when he saw it. Dick's eyes sparkled and a smile that didn't fit his face was spread wide. He pushed himself up to sitting as Roy closed the door. He wavered a little as though the floor had shifted suddenly.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Roy knelt down next to Dick.

Dick shrugged. "It's been a good night."

"What did you take?"

"Didn't take anything, I know better." He nodded.

Roy glanced around, everything was in place. "What are you on then?"

Dick held up his wrist, the one that the needle pierced. "Gossamer."

Roy looked at the needle mark, slightly bruised. "Shit."

"What's wrong?"

Roy met Dick's blurred, care-free gaze. "You're in for a hell of a night." Roy turned Dick's hand over and saw the dried blood around the cut. "What happened here?"

He paused and tried to remember. "Fell, I think. The sidewalk moved and tripped me."

He spoke with the blunt honesty of a drunk. There was enough slur to his words to make it seem likely. His cheeks were flushed and a smile was constantly on lips. He trembled slightly and his breathing was rapid.

Roy stood and went to the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and returned to the floor next to his friend.

He handed the glass over. "Drink this."

"You bought me a drink." He laughed.

"Shit."

He drank the water in two long drinks and carefully placed the glass on the floor. "Careful, don't spill it."

"How much were you given?"

He paused. Roy could see the real Dick Grayson in there trying to analyze everything, figure it all out. That Dick Grayson was held hostage though, bound and gagged in a corner of his mind. Roy knew, as anyone did who wanted to stem the hemorrhage of drugs into the street, the affects of Gossamer. There wasn't anything he could do, but wait it out.

"Half a syringe." Dick ventured after a few minutes.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and tried to bring Roy into focus. "I think. Wasn't full. He said I wouldn't O.D. That was nice of him."

"Yeah, he's a regular good Samaritan."

"You've got a shadow, but it's in color." Dick mused.

"Seeing double?"

"Nope, just your colored shadow. Looks just like you."

Roy stood and refilled the glass with water. He handed it to Dick and made sure that he finished it. He caught it as the empty glass slipped from Dick's fingers.

"How long ago were you drugged?"

He shrugged. "Tonight, before you came and before I came here." He paused and sighed. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Dick turned his head as though he were listening for a radio playing in another room. "The streetlights are playing music."

Dick's smile faltered for the first time. He swallowed.

"You okay?"

Dick blinked slowly. "Kinda tired."

Roy was ready when Dick fell back. He kept his friend's head from slamming into the floor. Roy turned Dick onto his side and stood. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He returned and folded it under Dick's head.

Roy leaned back against the wall. "You're coming down, Dick. I don't envy you in the slightest, you're in for one hell of a night."


	4. Down

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated. Sorry about the supernatural thing, it was a formatting error that I thought I corrected, but I was wrong.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language that may be appearing in the near future, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

Dick woke on the floor of his apartment. He didn't know how he got there or why he was on the floor. Roy was asleep in a chair nearby, Dick didn't remember him coming over either. He slowly sat up and braced his throbbing head in his hands. He shivered and leaned back against the wall. The faint taste of vomit coated his tongue and he didn't remember that either. His heartbeat was quick and loud in his ears, he could feel the pressure of his blood at his temples. He felt like the first day of a wicked case of the flu; achy, feverish, weak. He didn't want to try standing yet.

Roy woke and looked over at Dick. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." His voice was rough. "What happened?"

Roy went over to his friend and took his pulse. "I called and then came over. You were as high as a kite."

Dick paused to remember. "Goss?"

"Yeah."

Well, that at least explained why Dick felt the way he did that morning. It also explained the desperate voice in the back of his mind that was begging for more. He was hooked and he knew it. All he really wanted was for Roy to leave so he could step out and get another hit. He was in the process of making a plan to do just that.

It was as though Roy could read his thoughts. "Don't go down this road, Dick. As someone who's been there, you don't want this. Just stop before it gets worse."

"What do you know?" As soon as he said it, he knew he shouldn't have.

"Because you're crashing, I'll let it go." Roy stood and brought a glass of water over to Dick.

He drank slowly, letting the water sooth his parched throat. His hands shook as he held the glass.

"Did I puke?"

Roy smiled slightly. "About three times."

"I don't remember."

He shrugged. "Yeah, that shit will do that to you."

He set the glass down and pushed himself up against the wall. He wavered and almost fell, but stayed standing.

"Where are you going?"

"Grab a shower." He muttered.

He was pale and looked about as good as he felt. He stumbled towards the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. He leaned against the closed door for a few moments. He caught his reflection in the mirror. _You've really gotten yourself into it this time._

He pulled off his jeans and shirt and stepped under the stream of hot water. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor of the shower. It was then that he gave into the shaking. He had been hiding it from Roy, didn't want him to worry more than he already did. He shook and felt the pain radiate through his body. Not the pain of an injury, but the pain of need and desire, the pain of pain receptors in his brain having no pleasure receptors to balance. Everything was perceived as pain. He reached up and turned on the cold tap some.

He looked down at the bruise on his wrist from the injection and for the first time hoped the needle was clean, he'd have to get Leslie to give him a blood test. A knock at the bathroom door drew him from his spiraling thoughts.

"Dick, you all right?" Roy's voice was muffled from the door and the shower.

"Yeah." He replied and instantly regretted the volume as it sharpened the pain in his head.

He pushed himself to his feet and finished showering. He needed a hit, he knew that. His lack of control over the situation scared him. He hoped that his training both as a vigilante and as a police officer would be enough to keep him from seeking the drug that he craved.

He pulled on his jeans again and stepped into the hall. Roy was leaned against a wall, waiting. Dick went into his room and pulled on clean clothes. He felt a little better, but mostly that was just because he was showered. He left his room and fell into a chair in the living room.

"How are you feeling?" Roy stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Like shit."

"It's the withdrawal."

"I know." Dick swallowed and closed his eyes. "I really want to get some more."

Roy nodded. "Believe me, I know. If you need me to, I'll stick around."

"Thanks." He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'm gonna get some sleep."

He stood and went to his bedroom. He fell onto the bed and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. He drifted to sleep only to escape the pain, nausea and discomfort of the withdrawal.

Dick woke a few hours later. He wanted another hit of Gossamer like he wanted to keep breathing. He rolled to his back and clenched his hands at his sides. It took all his strength and resolve to stay clean, to suffer through the withdrawal. Roy knocked at the door and came into the room. Dick sat up on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Alex called, to see if you were okay."

"That's a good question." He muttered.

"Are you?"

He looked up at Roy and couldn't hide the desperation that spilled from his eyes. "I've never wanted anything more."

"We should get Leslie over here, have her check you out."

Dick shrugged, his only focus was to stay sitting, keep from vomiting and stay clean. Roy stepped out to make the call.

He stopped and turned in the doorway. "None of this is any failing of you, Goss was designed to hook and hook hard. It's your brain chemistry, not your character at fault." He left.

Dick spun back into his desire, his withdrawal, his thoughts. If there would have been Goss in front of him, he would have taken it in a second. No amount of training or strong character could have kept him from it. He would have even settled for a bottle of vodka, just anything to take the craving from his mind.

"Got yourself into a bit of trouble?" Leslie stood in the doorway.

He looked up at her as she came over.

"Roy filled me in. You should have called sooner." She pulled a chair up. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, the tremor in your hands and your rapid pulse shows that." She took his wrist and looked at the injection site.

"Gonna need a blood test." He muttered.

"You'll be fine." She pulled a vial and a syringe from the bag. "This is going to help ease the withdrawal."

Leslie gently took Dick's arm and injected the medication into his bicep. She tightened a tourniquet around his arm and drew a vial of blood. He watched it all with a detached interest.

"You might feel a little sleepy from this, but overall better."

He nodded.

She rested her hand on his knee and met his eyes. "It's only going to get better from here. Call if you need anything."

She stood and left the room. Dick leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes.


	5. Streets

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated. Sorry about the supernatural thing, it was a formatting error that I thought I corrected, but I was wrong.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language that may be appearing in the near future, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

Dick discovered he fell asleep only when he woke a few hours later. Other than being completely drained and feeling like he had been hit by a bus after suffering through a wicked case of the flu, he felt better. He looked down at his watch and saw that he had an hour before his shift started. For a second he thought about calling in sick, but knew that Alex and the chief were counting on him.

He walked out into the kitchen and saw that Roy was still there. Dick pulled down a box of cereal and poured himself dinner.

Roy looked up from the book he was reading. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He took a bite of cereal and saw that his hands still shook, he hoped Roy didn't notice. "Thanks."

He shrugged. "You'd do the same."

"I got work in an hour."

"Can you do it?" Roy closed the book and assessed Dick's health.

Dick shrugged. "Have to. I'm fine."

Roy stood in the middle of the living room. "Call if, you know, if you need anything."

"Yeah."

"See you around." Roy turned and left the apartment.

Dick finished his cereal and dropped the bowl into the sink. He pulled on a sweatshirt and his shoes. He was out the door and halfway down the hall when he remembered that his motorcycle was still at the station parking garage. He shoved his hand in his pocket and hoped that there was enough change for bus fare.

He waited at the bus stop with a few others. None of them met each other's gaze or said anything. The bus came a few minutes late. Dick counted out the change and had just enough. He took a seat near the back. He was still a little out of it, the movement of the bus made him dizzy. He climbed off the bus three stops later and walked into the station.

He wasn't at his desk long before Alex came up. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Dick shrugged and continued to fill out his paperwork.

"You feel all right?" Alex didn't wait for an answer. "Cause you look like shit."

"Thanks." He looked up. "How'd the job go last night?"

Alex shrugged a little. "All right, you were missed. Can't say I'm not glad to see you tonight."

"What are the stats?"

He picked up a file and paged through it. "Pretty much the same. Addid says we got a new connection that should be meeting with us tonight. We head out in an hour."

Most of Dick's hour was spent in Addid's office getting him caught up on the details. It seemed that he had just sat down at his desk when he and Alex were back out on the streets, moving from one shadowed ally to another.

Dick shivered in the damp night air and pulled his hood up. He leaned against the wall and glanced over at Alex. He stood a few feet away and slowly smoked a cigarette.

"So." Alex tossed the butt away. "What happened last night?"

"Twenty-four hour flu, hit fast." He shrugged.

"Right." He turned to Dick. "You'd level with me if it were serious, right?"

"Yeah. Don't worry."

A dark, heavily muscled figure appeared at the end of the ally. Alex and Dick were suddenly at attention.

"You Seth?"

Dick glanced over at Alex. "Maybe."

"You wouldn't happen to know where a guy could get some Goss, would you?"

Dick relaxed some. "Could be."

The man shifted. "I was told Seth was the guy to come to."

"Told by who?"

He smiled. "I don't give names."

"Then I think we got a deal." Dick turned to Alex. "Dave, show him what we got."

The man pulled a glock from his waistband and aimed for Dick's chest. "Adrian says hi."

Dick raised his hands, Alex followed suit. "Adrian?"

The man smiled and cocked the gun. "Goes by _Kamkazie_ now, maybe you've heard of him_._"

Another man of the same build and dress in a dark trench coat appeared from the shadows and pulled a gun as well.

"Listen." Dick glances between the two men. "Whatever Adrian has on me, we can work it out."

"He'll work it out his way. Hands on top of your head."

Dick and Alex followed the order. The second man kept his gun on Alex as the first grabbed Dick's hands.

"I wouldn't fight." He said as he pulled Dick's hands behind his back to cuff him. "You move an inch, and my friend here shoots your friend."

"Come on." Dick shifted. "How's this gonna help your business?"

"My business isn't in Goss, not on the buying and dealing end of it anyway."

Alex was also cuffed. He and Dick were pushed into the wall and the guns pressed into their backs. Black cloth bags were pulled over Dick and Alex's heads. They were both patted down for weapons or wires. They were pulled away and thrown into the back of a van.

Dick wasn't completely unprepared for the worst-case scenario; his training wouldn't have let him be. He had a small knife in an ankle sheath and a basic com device in his shoe, he just had to wait for the right time.

"Seth." Alex whispered.

Dick was glad that he remembered their cover names. "Yeah?"

"What do you think?"

Dick shifted his face away from the bag over his head. "Let's wait and see, something will come along."

"I'll follow your lead."

He winced as the handcuffs cut into his wrists. He tried to keep track of the turns the van made, but the twisted streets of Bludhaven made it perfect to lose kidnap victims in. Dick could have slipped out of the handcuffs with a few minutes of work, but he didn't. He figured it would be best to play the part of the drug dealer and nothing more. The van turned sharply and he and Alex were thrown to the floor. They fought their way back to sitting and waited in the darkness for something to happen.

After about forty minutes of driving the van stopped and the two abductors got out. Dick expected to be hauled from the back, but it was eerily silent, that was never a good thing.

"Seth?"

"I'm still here." He twisted his chafed wrists in the cuffs.

"We're fucked, aren't we?"

"Not yet."

The back doors were pulled open. Alex was dragged from the van. He struggled and Dick heard something hit something else and Alex stopped struggling. The doors were closed and he was left alone. He kept himself alert for anything that could help him, any information at all. The back doors opened again, but Dick wasn't grabbed like Alex was.

"So, you're the one selling Goss." The voice was confidant.

"Forgive me for not shaking your hand in a proper introduction."

"Wit and sarcasm won't help you at all, Dick." He paused. "Now you're wondering who I am and how I know your name."

A hand grabbed Dick and pushed him to the floor of the van.

"Dick Grayson, my name is Adrian Boanes and I'm very interested in you."

Something hard hit Dick across the head and he knew nothing else.


	6. Unknowns

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated. Sorry about the supernatural thing, it was a formatting error that I thought I corrected, but I was wrong.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language that may be appearing in the near future, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

When Dick came to the first thought was that he was sitting, tied to a hard, metal chair. His second thought was that his head hurt like hell. He opened his eyes and saw that the bag had been removed. The room he was in was bare except for the chair he occupied, a bare light bulb, a few pipes and a drain. The room was cool and damp, one of the pipes dripped in a dark corner. He was able to smell the faint salty smell of the bay, he was near the docks, most likely in one of the hundreds of empty warehouses.

He could feel dried blood near his temple that corresponded with the most painful throbbing part of his head. He couldn't hear anything that would help him figure out his surroundings, at least he narrowed it down some, sort of.

He heard a key in the lock of the door. He dropped his head to his chest and pretended to be asleep. The door opened and heavy footsteps came towards him. His chin was cupped and his face was lifted.

"He's still out." The voice was deep, gravelly.

"Then wake him up." Adrian stated simply.

The footsteps retreated and returned. Cold water poured over Dick and he slowly opened his eyes. He shivered as his hair dripped water down his face.

Adrian came over and leaned in front of Dick so their eyes could meet. "Good morning." He straightened. "That statement is inaccurate because it is not morning and I don't think you would call this situation at any time 'good'."

He paced the room as though enjoying every minute, he probably was. Dick watched him carefully. Suddenly Adrian punched Dick across the jaw. His head snapped back from the impact and the room shifted for a moment. He spit blood and tried to orient himself against the spinning.

Adrian cupped Dick's chin in his hand. "Oh, the fun we'll have."

"Why me?" Dick muttered.

"Because you lied to me. I was thinking that you were just another of my dealers, but then I learn that you're an undercover police officer. How that hurt me." He paused for dramatic flair. "Now I'll hurt you."

"Where's the other guy?" Dick pulled his head out of Adrian's grasp.

He smiled. "I wouldn't waste my energy worrying about Alex, when you have so much to worry about on your own. Don't worry Dick, you'll see him soon enough."

Adrian hit Dick again. He honestly saw stars sparkle in his vision for a moment. Adrian watched for a few moments before he left the room and left Dick alone. His head fell forward to his chest and he focused only on staying conscious.

Bruce Wayne sat behind his large oak desk at Wayne Tower in Gotham. He was finishing up his day's work, organizing files and keeping everything in working order. He stood and grabbed his overcoat from the nearby coat rack.

"Mr. Wayne." Emily, his secretary, called in on the intercom.

"I'm on my way out, Emily."

"I think you might want to turn on the news."

He paused. "Okay."

Several scenarios flashed through his mind, but none prepared him for the headline that scrolled across the bottom of the screen and the report that the solemn newscaster told.

"Tonight the search continues for two missing Bludhaven police officers. They were reported missing after failing to turn up for the end of their shift this morning." Two pictures of men in uniform filled the screen. Alex O'Connor and Richard Grayson labled the photographs. "Police Chief Addid has given this statement-"

Whatever statement Addid was about to give was cut off as Bruce turned off the television. He stood silent and still for a moment in his office. He knew that Dick could handle himself in tight situations, but he knew as well as anyone that even costumed heroes got in over their heads.

The phone rang as he reached for it. "Bruce Wayne."

"Master Bruce." Alfred's voice came through the phone.

"Have you seen the news?" He lowered his voice so not to be overheard.

"That's why I called, sir. Will you be arriving home shortly?"

Bruce caught himself looking at a framed photograph on his desk. He and Dick when the boy was about ten. "Yes, I'll be home soon."

He hung up the phone and quickly left the office. He had to push emotion aside if he was going to be any help to Dick.

When Dick was sure that he wasn't going to pass out again, he shifted in his bonds to see how tightly he was secured. Adrian didn't mess around in hostage situations. The ropes were thick, strong and tight. It would have taken Harry Houdini three days of nonstop work to slip the knots and chains.

Dizziness and nausea threatened him suddenly and he figured he had a mild concussion at least. _Keep it together, Dick. You can get out of this, you've been in worse situations._ He tried to find a lose rope, knot, anything. Nothing, he was tied too well, got to give Adrian credit for knowing what he was doing at least._ Time to call in reinforcements._

Dick was about to struggle for the com device when the door opened again. He stopped and tried his best to look innocent and half conscious.

Adrian grabbed Dick's bicep. His fingers were cold and tight on Dick's bare skin. "Just a little something to keep you company." Dick saw the flash of a syringe and felt the sting in his arm. "Your old friend, Goss to keep you company. I know you missed it."

He left the room again. Dick took slow breaths to keep his heart rate lower in an attempt to slow the drugs running through his veins. Two doses so close together was a sure way to hook someone hard. He was just getting over the withdrawal of the first dose. The second dose was like giving sleeping pills to a narcoleptic determined to stay awake. He felt the drug take hold and the euphoria flood his brain. He slowly stopped struggling, slowly stopped worrying, slowly stopped trying to think of ways to escape. It pushed out the worry and determination, removed all thought of com devices and struggling for freedom from his mind. A drug induced smile weakly spread across his face and he leaned his head back.

All that mattered was the high from the Gossamer. The drug and the concussion worked well together in rendering Dick as harmless as coma patient and only slightly less unconscious. His thoughts of _I don't want to die here, I will fight this_ changed to _I'm don't want his high to fade, I will lose myself in this_. His eyes slipped closed and he completely relaxed in the drug's deceptive hands.


	7. Spiral

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

Dick lost hours and days to the consistent doses of Goss. He struggled to keep hold of who he really was, to be stronger than the drug, but he always lost that fight. Every six hours or so, just about when Dick had come down enough to regain control of this thoughts, another dose of Goss was faithfully given to him by Adrian. The man enjoyed watching Dick weakly struggle and the succumb to the drug. Dick was also regularly beaten, but he usually was too high to feel much of it.

He woke on the damp, cool floor of the room. His hands were tied behind his back and he was no longer tied to the chair. He slowly sat up and leaned against the wall. Blood was dried on the side of his face and his lip was split. He shivered from being in the cool room for so long and from coming down from his last hit. Sweat soaked his brow and his shirt. He felt sick to his stomach and pain would radiate through his arms and legs.

As uncomfortable as sobering up was becoming, his thoughts were clearer. He struggled to reach the com device and winced as the handcuffs rubbed his raw and bloody wrists. The tip of his finger touched it, but it was secured too tightly for him to get it out in his current bound state. He tried again, desperation taking hold. His thoughts were split between getting him and Alex out of there and getting his next hit. The preoccupation with the drug was starting to overpower the will to escape.

The door to the room was unlocked and opened. Dick looked up as Adrian walked into the room and stood a few feet away.

A smile spread across Adrian's face. "How are you feeling today?"

"What day is it?" Dick's voice was gravelly from lack of use.

"Tuesday."

_Four days, I've been here four days._ He swallowed and took a slow breath. _I wonder if anyone knows I'm missing yet. God, please let him have some Goss for me. _

Adrian turned to one of his lackeys. The heavily muscled man drug a severely battered and broken Alex into the room. Alex looked up at Dick from his position on the floor.

Adrian paced the room. "He's not talking, Dick. Can't get a thing from him."

Dick watched the man carefully, he looked for any weaknesses to exploit or take advantage of. He couldn't focus enough, couldn't separate himself from the desire of the drug long enough to figure out Adrian's weakness. That is exactly what Adrian wanted.

Adrian stopped and pulled Alex up by his shirt. "So, what do I do with him?" He pulled a gun from a holster under his jacket.

Dick tensed as Adrian held the gun to Alex's temple. "Answers, Dick, or you get to watch your friend die."

Bruce was down in the batcave. Ever since the news of Dick's abduction, he had been scouring the streets of Gotham and Bludhaven for any information. As a detective, the lack of information was nearly killing him.

He stood at his computers and monitors and scanned anything he had found. He knew as well as anyone that the longer Dick remained missing, the more likely it was that he was already dead.

Bruce hit a button. "Gordon, anything?"

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Chief Gordon had been keeping all his police contacts open. "I'll keep looking and listening. Addid is looking as hard as we have been."

"I know." He glanced at the screens again. "Call me if you find anything."

"Where are you going?"

"Back to Bludhaven." He turned and walked away from the computers.

Bruce stalked the streets of Bludhaven. He shook down any dealer, buyer, supplier who had a hand in Gossamer. Nobody had seen anything. He was getting desperate. Four days is a long time to be missing, and those that are missing from Bludhaven or Gotham, for that matter, have a tendency of ending up in the river or the bay with a bullet between their eyes.

The mission for that night was to find Kamkazie. Without leads to follow, Bruce went back through anyone who had something against Dick. Adrian Boanes was near the top of the list, especially after that bullet he put into Dick's abdomen not so long ago. Kamkazie's lack of presence on the streets strengthened the idea that he had something to do with Dick's absence.

Dick met Alex's eyes and saw the terror barely contained there. "What do you want to know?"

Adrian smiled, cocked the gun. "The names of every dealer you have a file on, and the location of those files."

"I don't know them all off hand." Dick winced as his addiction grew stronger. "I can get them to you if you let me."

Adrian quickly fired the gun into Alex's leg. Alex yelled in surprise and pain. Blood soaked and ran from his jeans onto the floor. Dick's heart rate quickened.

"That's the answer he gave." Adrian met Dick's desperate gaze. "Give me Bruce Wayne."

Dick's blood ran cold, his mouth went dry. "Why?"

"Billionaires interest me and you're the son of one of the most well known." He fired again and hit Alex in the abdomen. Alex was pale from pain and blood loss.

"What's Gossamer got to do with him?"

Adrian smiled and pulled a syringe of the mentioned drug from his coat. He knew what it would do to Dick and he smiled as Dick's eyes locked onto it.

"I don't think that's any of your concern." He paused. "I'll give you a choice. Give me the information and you will get either your friend's life or the dose of Goss. Choose."

Alex coughed. "Don't tell him anything." He gasped. "I'm not worth him knowing. We didn't get this far to-"

He was cut off as Adrian's thick boot landed in Alex's stomach. He was carried a few feet through the air and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Choose." The smile was gone from Adrian's face and his eyes were cold with insanity and power.

Dick met Alex's eyes again. Alex shook his head slightly.

"Fine." Adrian aimed and fired.

The bullet hit its mark at Alex's temple. Blood pooled under him and slowly traced a river to the drain in the center of the room. Dick struggled to keep himself from vomiting. He swallowed.

Adrian stood a few feet from Dick and held up the syringe. "You get neither." He smiled and left the room.

Alone again with Alex's lifeless body and cold, hard withdrawal the only things occupying Dick's mind. _I'm going to die here. I wasn't strong enough to save him or me, wasn't good enough. I deserve to die here._

He slid down the wall and curled onto the floor in an attempt to ease the aches of the muscle cramps. He knew as strongly as he knew his own name that his last moments of life would be filled with pain and suffering.

_One last shot._ The thought flew into Dick's mind. He struggled, felt the handcuffs cut deeper into his wrists and managed to grab the com link. The room spun sickeningly, he nearly blacked out. He needed a hit, it wasn't just an addiction, he no longer could function without Gossamer running through his veins. _Please, help me._ He pressed the button on the com link and passed out.


	8. Daylight

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language, better safe than sorry. (not a deathfic…well, yeah)

/\-n-/\

Bruce Wayne, Batman was driving the streets of Bludhaven. He searched for anything, anyone that would help him find Dick. He started at the lowest places and there were a lot of places.

A panel lit up on the dashboard, it marked a warehouse down by the docks. Bruce only knew of a handful of people that had them. He turned the car around and headed towards the opposite side of Bludhaven.

Dick woke to water pouring over him. Judging by the amount on the floor and how drenched he was, it must have been the third bucket that woke him.

Adrian knelt near him and smiled. "Almost started to think that you wouldn't wake anymore."

Dick wanted to sit up, to take at least some of the advantage away from Adrian, but he could hardly stay conscious. Pain shot through his body, his head, his stomach. He would have drown in his own vomit if he had eaten anything in the last four days. He shivered and could hear his own heart beat double time in his ears. He wished for death to end it all, he envied Alex's lifeless body.

Adrian pulled a syringe from his coat and held it in front of Dick's eyes. "You want this don't you? This could put all your suffering to rest."

Dick couldn't tear his gaze away from the drug, from the needle. His arms were bruised from the doses, his blood thinned by its affects.

"I'll just put this here." Adrian set it two feet away from Dick's outstretched hand, knowing full well that he could no more get the drug than he could run a marathon in his current state.

The single bulb in the room went out, as did the lights in the hall. Adrian stood and flicked his lighter.

"Go see what that is." He snapped and one of his associates left. He turned back to Dick. "Who knows you're here?"

"Nobody." He rasped. He didn't remember pressing the com link.

Adrian's two-way radio crackled and static broke up the report. "…broke in…no power…get out the back…Batman…"

For the first time, fear sparked in Adrian's eyes for a moment. He snatched up the syringe and grabbed Dick's arm.

Adrian jammed the needle into Dick's flesh. "So, the Batman came all the way to save you. You must be pretty damn special." He injected the Gossamer and stood. "By the way, you're going to die of an overdose in forty minutes."

Dick watched him leave the room. Everything spun around him and then went black.

Adrian slipped out the back and walked right into Batman. With a few easy punches, Adrian was tied on the ground.

Batman called Addid. "Chief, warehouse 43 on the docks."

He took out a few more of Adrian's men as he searched the warehouse. All he wanted to do was find Dick. It had been an hour since the call came in from the com link, anything could have happened in that time.

He kicked down a door and saw a body curled near the center of the room. His heart quickened as he saw the blood that covered and surrounded the body. His breath caught in his lungs until he recognized Alex. Bruce checked for a pulse, found none and stood. He turned and saw Dick slumped against the wall.

Foam dripped from his mouth and his heartbeat was nearly triple of what it should have been when Bruce checked it.

He gently shook Dick's shoulder. "Dick, come on, snap out of it. Wake up."

Dick's eyes opened slightly and slowly focused on Bruce. "Hey." Dick coughed and Bruce sat him forward.

Dick passed out and Bruce lowered him to the floor. He started to convulse. Bruce pulled what appeared to be an eppi pen from his belt and shoved it into Dick's thigh.

"Leslie." Bruce's voice was as calm as ever, but his eyes didn't leave Dick.

"Did you find him?"

"Meet me in the cave, he's overdosing." Dick stopped convulsing, but he didn't wake. "I gave him a dose of Phynereperian, he's unconscious."

"I'll be ready and waiting."

Bruce took a breath to refocus. He picked up Dick, the movement reminded him of the orphaned boy from years ago, and carried him out to the batmobile. Dick's face was pale and his lips were slightly blue tinted. Even if he survived the dose, there was no telling what lasting effects there would be, not to mention the withdrawal he'd have to endure.

Bruce sped through the early morning streets back to Gotham. Just as he reached the Gotham city limits, the sun broke over the horizon. Bruce turned towards the mannor and hoped that he had found Dick in time, hoped that the young man was strong enough.

Leslie was waiting in the batcave with Alfred at her side when Bruce came in. They carried Dick from the car and placed him on the exam table. Bruce had been patched up countless times on that very table, but rarely had the situation been so serious. Dick looked as good as dead. The only sign of life was the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe.

He coughed and more foam filled and ran from his mouth.

"He's aspirating." Leslie tipped his head back and carefully guided a breathing tube down his throat. She attached a CPR bag to the end. "Bruce."

He took the bag and squeezed it to try and regulate Dick's breathing. Leslie prepared a shot of medication and administered it to Dick's thigh. She attached a heart monitor to his chest, it immediately picked up the rapid, slightly uneven beat.

She met Bruce's eyes. "Alfred, call an ambulance. His blood needs to be filtered if he stands half a chance."

Alfred quickly went over to a phone. Bruce continued to help Dick breathe.

"You did what you could, Bruce." Leslie said as she wrapped a blanket around Dick.

"It had better be enough." He simply stated.

Dick shivered, kept only alive by the constant breath being forced into his lungs and the medication trying to counteract the remaining Gossamer in his blood before it could do any more damage.

They carefully moved Dick up into the house. No paramedic could know about, nonetheless find the cave. The red and blue lights flashed through the windows around the front door. Alfred threw open the door to let the medics in.

"What happened." The paramedic glanced from Dick up to Bruce, now free of his costume and looking more like his billionaire self in jeans and a polo shirt.

"He's overdosed on Goss." Bruce looked over at Leslie.

"He's had two doeses of Phynereperian. BP sixty over twenty, heart rate 217, respitorary distress."

The paramedics moved Dick onto the gurney and rushed him into the ambulance. Leslie climbed in with him.

Alfred jumped behind the wheel of one of the cars as Bruce jumped in the passenger side. They followed the ambulance as it raced to the hospital.

The paramedics and Leslie worked to keep Dick alive. Two minutes from the hospital his heart stopped, the constant tone of the heart monitor had replaced the rapid beeping. They started CPR as one prepared the defibrillator.

One paramedic placed the paddles on Dick's bare chest. "200, clear."

The man bagging Dick stopped for a moment. Dick's body jolted up, but his heart didn't restart.

"Charging 250, what's our ETA?"

The driver glanced in the mirror. "Minute."

"Clear."

Another jolt and the heart monitor's tone remained steady.

"Charging 300."

Leslie looked down at Dick. "Come on, Dick. Don't do this."

"Clear."

He lifted off the gurney for a moment.

The ambulance pulled into the hospital. The back doors were thrown open and Dick was wheeled into the emergency room clinically dead. Only the paramedic kneeling over Dick's hips performing chest compressions kept his heart beating and the other paramedic bagging him kept oxygen flowing into his lungs.


	9. Waiting for Waking

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. p.s. I changed the rating due to some language, better safe than sorry.

/\-n-/\

When Bruce and Alfred arrived in the emergency room a few minutes later, Dick had already been taken back. Leslie came out to them, her face somber.

Bruce didn't dare figure out what news could make her look so stoic, but the detective in him wouldn't let the question go unasked. "How is he?"

"His heart stopped on the way over." She paused. "It was about five minutes before the doctors could get it restarted. He's still unconscious. We won't know if there was any damage to his brain until he wakes up."

"He will though?"

She paused again. "He should."

Bruce's face remained too stoic, too neutral. "When can I see him?"

"A couple hours. He needs to be stabilized." She met his eyes and then Alfred's before going back down the hall.

Bruce lowered himself into a chair and rested his forehead in his palms.

"Master Richard has always shown surprising strength." Alfred quietly said as he sat down. "I'm sure he will be fine."

"Not like this." Bruce whispered. "Don't let him go like this."

The minutes passed like days. Both men hardly moved except to look up at the doors whenever anyone came through.

Two hours after Dick was admitted, Barbara and Roy came into the room. For a moment, Bruce thought they looked younger from the fear they were holding behind their eyes. He stood and met them half way across the room.

"Addad called my dad, who told me." Barbara said without needing to. "I brought Roy because…" She let the word fade.

Roy met Bruce's eyes. "Because I've been there and he's going to need someone who knows the way out."

Bruce nodded once. "Thank you for coming, both of you."

Barbara looked towards the doors. "Any news?"

"Nothing since when he was brought in."

"How bad is he?" Her voice almost broke, but she could always handle herself in tough situations.

Bruce swallowed, looked at the floor for a moment. "He's unconscious, they're trying to stabilize him." He paused as though to rethink about adding any further information. "His heart stopped on the way over."

Roy put his hand on Barbara's shoulder the moment those words were said. They found hard chairs to play the horrible game of waiting in. Nobody spoke because words were too futile, they couldn't explain what everyone was thinking and hoping. The ticking of the clock dutifully marked the passing of each second, but nobody in that room needed a clock to tell them how slowly time moved.

After five hours of painfully silent waiting, Leslie came back out. Bruce was on his feet in a second, his heartbeat quickened.

She took a breath. "He's stable, but I'll only allow him to have one visitor for now."

"Is he awake?" Bruce had his hands clenched.

"Not yet. You can see him, but only for an hour."

Bruce nodded and followed her down the hall to the ICU. It was quiet, despite the fact that it was mid afternoon. The patients in the rooms he passed were too still. Leslie stopped in front of a room.

She took a breath. "If you need anything, just call."

Dick's room was dim, the curtains closed to block out the daylight. A heart monitor beeped regularly, still a little fast. He had a respirator down his throat breathing for him. He was pale, even in the low light, and thin. He looked nearly dead. His face and chest were bruised from the beatings and his arm bruised and scabbed from the repeated injections.

Bruce pulled a chair next to the bedside and sat down. He looked at the monitors and machines keeping Dick alive and then he looked over at his son.

"Dick?" He kept his voice low. "Hey. You're going to come out of this, you'll be just fine. You have Alfred, Roy and Barbara waiting for you to wake up."

The heart monitor beeped unevenly for a few moments, Bruce watched its progress and willed it to return to normal.

Leslie came in behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You'll have to return to the waiting room. The doctors need to run a few more tests."

Bruce stood, took one last look at Dick and left the room. A doctor ran in almost as soon as he was out. He looked back in the room. Dick's heartbeat was faster and more uneven. The doctor and Leslie worked to stabilize him. Bruce turned and walked back to the waiting room. Everyone stood as Bruce came back.

"The doctors…" Bruce let the sentence trail off, he didn't know how to finish. "He'll be fine. I'm going back to the manor, I'll be back later."

Bruce stalked out of the room.

Roy turned to Alfred. "Where's he going?"

"Master Bruce has some work to do. He'll return later."

Roy sunk back into a chair and ran a hand through his hair. Barbara sat next to him and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

Bruce drove back to the manor. He headed straight for the cave. He sat down in the chair in front of the computers and looked at the monitors without seeing what was on them. His gaze fell onto a framed picture nearby. He and Dick, not long after the boy came to live at the manor.

Thirteen years previous.

Dick sat at the breakfast table, his bowl of oatmeal uneaten in front of him. He had his head rested on his folded arms.

Alfred came into the room. "Finish your breakfast Master Richard or you'll be late for school." He stopped when he saw the boy.

Dick looked up, his cheeks bright with fever. Alfred sat down next to the boy, rested his hand against his forehead and felt the heat radiating from the boy.

"Go on back to bed, Master Richard."

He stood and obediently went back to his room. Alfred came into the bedroom a few minutes later with a tray. Dick sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up as Alfred came into the room.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

Alfred took a pair of clean pajamas from the drawer and helped Dick into them. "There's nothing to apologize for. You just rest and get well." He pulled the blanket over the boy as he sunk into the pillows.

Alfred handed him a children's Tylenol and a glass of water. Dick took it without question.

"I'm going to call Master Bruce and then I'll be back to check on you." He paused in the doorway and glanced back before he left.

Dick slept most of the day. Alfred came in a few times to check on him or feed him more medication, other than that, the boy was asleep.

Alfred came into the room that evening with a bowl of soup. He hadn't been able to get Dick to eat anything. Bruce sat at the boy's bedside.

"How is he?" He kept his voice low.

Alfred set the tray down. "A little better, I think."

Bruce kept his eyes on the boy.

"I'll leave the tray. If he wakes, see if you can get him to eat a little." Alfred turned and left the room.

Present day.

Bruce looked up from the picture. He ran his hands through his hair and focused on the computer screens. He could at least help Gotham.


	10. Resurfacing

I don't own Supernatural, not one bit of it, so if you are planning on suing, please, please don't

I don't own Nightwing, Batman or any of the character, that all goes to DC (who rock, by the way). So please don't sue, I have no money anyway and I'm only borrowing the brilliant characters.

Also, thanks for all the reviews, I love them.

/\-n-/\

Alfred, Barbara and Roy waited the hours away in the room. Other than a few quick updates from Leslie, not much had changed since Bruce left. Roy had taken to pacing the room slowly. He never was one just to sit and let things happen, none of them were.

Leslie came out, she looked as tired as they all felt. "I'll allow you to go back and see him. Try and keep it as quiet as you can."

Barbara glanced over at Roy. "Has he woken up?"

"No, but he has been stable for enough time to consider it an improvement."

Roy and Barbara followed Leslie down the hall. Alfred stayed back a moment to call Bruce.

"Alfred, how is he?" Bruce picked up on the first ring.

"We are going to see him. Leslie says he has improved some."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Drive safe. One member of this family in the hospital is more than enough."

Alfred knew that Bruce would smile slightly. "I will."

Bruce came into the room ten minutes later. Roy and Barbara stood off near one corner, unsure what to do and determined to be out of the way. Alfred sat at Dick's bedside, but stood to give Bruce the seat.

"Any change?" He whispered as a result of the atmosphere of the room.

"Nothing yet."

"How was patrol?" Roy asked.

Bruce looked up at him. "Fairly uneventful."

Dick shifted slightly. Most wouldn't have noticed, but the people in that room were so tuned in to how he was doing that they all noticed. Bruce leaned forward in the chair.

"Come on, Dick." He whispered. "Come on back."

Dick's eyes opened briefly and he started to fight the respirator. Bruce pressed the call button and held Dick's shoulders.

"Don't fight it, it's helping you breathe." His words were calm, controlled. "Dick, you're okay, just calm down."

Dick's eyes locked on Bruce's and he slowly realized where he was. He calmed some, but still fought against the respirator. Leslie came into the room and Bruce stepped back.

"Dick." She met his frightened gaze. "You have to work with me. Okay?"

He nodded slightly as he choked on the breathing tube.

"I'm going to count to three and I want you to exhale as I pull the tube out. Understand?"

He nodded again and glanced over at Bruce.

She tilted his head back and held the tube. "Okay. One, two, three."

Dick exhaled and she removed the tube. He gagged slightly and coughed. He was shaky and his breathing quick like he had been running. Leslie placed oxygen tubing under his nose and checked his vitals.

"How are you feeling?"

He swallowed, his throat sore. "Okay." He whispered.

She held a cup of water for him and he took a few slow sips. "I'll let you have some time." She left the room.

Bruce took the chair at the bedside again. Nobody spoke for a few minutes. They were all so relieved to have Dick back, to know that he would at least survive. He didn't know what happened, he didn't remember the days before Bruce found him. Everything was lost in the drug.

"Master Richard, so glad you came back to us." Alfred smiled at him.

Dick smiled slightly. "Sorry." He whispered, his voice not back to where it was.

"You did what you had to." Bruce said. "And we're all proud of you."

He paused and tried to straighten out everything in his head. "Is Alex all right? The officer I was working with."

Bruce paused, unsure how much news Dick could handle. "He didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Dick closed his eyes for a moment. "I thought it might have been true. I don't remember much from the time I was gone."

He was growing tired and everyone could see it. He tried to fight it, afraid that he wouldn't wake up again. He felt weak and sick and wondered how long he had been unconscious for. He didn't know if it was days or weeks.

Roy stepped forward. "Get some rest. We'll all be here, you can't get rid of us that easy."

Dick smiled a little. "Thanks."

Bruce gripped Dick's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "I'm glad you woke up."

"Me too." He found Barbara in the room.

She smiled and came over to his bedside. She took his hand and brushed his hair back. They knew each other well enough to have conversations without words. She held his gaze for a few moments.

She leaned close. "Don't know what I'd do without you." She stood and met Roy's eyes as though defying him to say anything.

Dick fought sleep for a few more minutes, but it was a losing battle. Eventually he drifted off. Barbara and Roy walked over towards Bruce.

Roy glanced over at Dick. "We're going to go home for a bit, give you some time. We'll be back early tomorrow. Call if anything changes."

"Thank you for being here." Bruce looked like just another concerned parent for a moment, not a billionaire and certainly not Batman.

Roy nodded. Barbara picked up her coat and held it over her arms.

"Do you need anything from the manor, sir?" Alfred asked.

"No. I'm fine, thanks."

Alfred walked with them out. Bruce leaned back in the chair. He was content to watch Dick sleep, like he had so many years before. Leslie came in and checked his vitals again. She added another medication.

"What's that for?" Bruce kept his voice low.

"To keep the withdrawal controlled long enough for him to recover."

"He has a long road ahead."

She paused. "Yes, he does. If I could, I would keep him medicated until it was out of his system, but Gossamer doesn't work like that. It has to be worked out of the system on its own."

He looked at Dick and hoped the boy was strong enough. "When will you take him off the medications?"

"A week or so, depending on how he recovers." She looked over at Bruce. "He'll make it. Roy won't let him fail, neither will you."

"It's not up to me." Bruce said it mostly to himself.

Leslie documented the changes on Dick's chart and left the father and son together.

(Continued in Desire)


End file.
